The Malfoy Factor
by Foxjay
Summary: Draco Malfoy has found himself becoming increasingly attached to a slightly broken Hermione. It's totally not his fault. She started it. He's just nervous about the whole confession part - then again, he's got the Malfoy Factor. With this handy characteristic, things could go either way. Draco's in for a heck of a ride, that's for sure./AU. VERY slight Ron-bashing.
1. The Essential Granger

**Author's Note: **Hello, lovelies - Coyote here. *points to screen name* Of course, you already knew that. Now I feel like Zuko… Anyways! So recently I've been in a Dramione phase and I decided to take a crack at it. *cracks a mirror with a baseball bat* But not like that. I would hope my FanFiction shall be far more subtle and less… violent. Rated G for g-everyone - even though Draco is Draco, I'll try to leave out any and all inappropriateness for those young kiddies out there. This chapter is sort of an experiment - I shall write it, and if I like it, then I will post it and we shall begin the cycle of fiction. I'll just write this and from the information I've put down make a beautiful outline. Thanks for taking the time to read my ramblings and enjoy the story.

**The Malfoy Affect Chapter One: The Essential Granger**

**Draco**

_Hogwarts was not_ supposed to be foreign to me. After all the foreign…ness… that I've faced I thought a bit of familiarity would greet me when I stepped off the train. But it didn't.

No, when my foot hit the ground my jaw almost dropped (it didn't, of course, because I'm a Malfoy and I prefer to retain my dignity). The castle had been almost entirely rebuilt - which sucked, because now I wouldn't have any secret passageways to roam. When I stepped into Hogwarts, the stone was new, not cracked with age. The floor shone, as if it had been scrubbed recently, and the torches burned cheerfully in their brackets along the wall and lit the room beautifully. The people around me were all bustling about, eager chatter echoing through the crowded hall.

I hated it.

Don't get me wrong, I like corny post-card scenes as much as the next guy, but all of this was new to me and after my entire family was sent to Azkaban and I was forced to get my own place (Malfoy Manor kept getting vandalized, so I took the miserable-looking house-elves and left), I thought Hogwarts would be a safe haven.

Well, I thought, and that was a mistake. Thinking was for losers, obviously - look where it'd gotten me. And I was a _winner_, darn it.

One thing that hadn't changed was the presence of the Golden Trio being lavished with love and attention as Weaselette practically threw herself at Potter and Weaselbee wrapped his arm rather possessively around Granger's waist. Ick. Blood-traitor and mudblood love.

I moved past the war heroes quickly, ignoring the jeers of my classmates as I walked by. I decided to skip dinner. I was the only seventh year Slytherin now, so I decided that sitting alone and looking positively miserable wasn't my idea of fun. I practically ran to my dorm once I was out of sight of the writhing crowd of nitwits and emerged into the dungeon. Home sweet home. I dragged myself down the hall, grabbing my luggage on the way, and found the same bed I'd slept in for seven years. I personalized the nightstand beside it with my wristwatch (simple, but elegant) and read a book until I heard the sounds of people moving about in the common room. Sighing and wishing to avoid being interrogated, I faked sleep until I actually fell asleep.

I ate breakfast quickly and quietly and slipped off to the library before most had a chance to even notice me. Those that did were met with a steely glare that sent them averting their eyes quickly. Granger was in the library, too. I practically tiptoed past her but she never looked up. I grabbed a book randomly and began to read. It was about defense against the Dark Arts, so I settled comfortably and began to educate myself.

I became so immersed in the book that I never heard the footsteps approaching.

"Wouldn't you look at that," a voice said, and I looked up to see Granger looking down on me with a strange expression on her face. It wasn't kind, but it wasn't unkind, either. Sort of neutral.

"Look at what?" I asked, eyebrow raised. I noticed suddenly that Granger's hair was pleasantly curly, then realized it had lost its flamboyancy somewhere around fifth year. Weird, you'd have thought I'd pick up on that.

"You. Reading. It's weird, I have to say." Hermione shook her head and plopped into a chair beside me, uninvited. Well, then, mudblood. Have it your way.

"I'll have you know I quite enjoy reading, Granger," I said, somewhat indignantly. "Not all of us are as stupid as your boyfriend." I looked back at her, hoping sadistically to have hit a nerve. To my surprise, she had a placid look on her face.

"He is rather stupid, isn't he?" she mused, twirling a lock of honey brown hair.

I spluttered in a very un-Malfoy-like fashion. Had she just called Weaselbee stupid? Granger? What? No. Foreign. More foreign-ness.

"Surprised?" she smirked. I hated that smug look on her face. That was my look.

"I'm sure _he'll_ be surprised once I tell him," I smirked in return. To my utter bewilderment, she simply shrugged.

"I think he'll be too busy sucking face with some floozy to hear you." Now she just looked sad. Oh no.

"You're supposed to be insulting me," I said after a bit.

"I'm a little tired. Forgive me." She then proceeded to take out a book and read, still sitting in that darn chair three feet away. Way too close, if you ask me.

So, I followed suit and began to read, too. We sat there in companionable silence for a while, and amidst the foreign-ness I noticed that the library wasn't all that foreign - it wasn't missing any of the important things, like the rest of my world did. All the library needed was books, and, of course, the essential Granger.

**Alriiiight, sexy people. Just scroll down ri' dere and hit dat li'l blue button and type some feedback ****J Did you like it? Hate it? Was the lovely Draco still in character? Hermione? I know I didn't get to develop Hermione very much L But don't worry, lovelies, the next chapter is in her point of view. No, this will not contain excessive Ron-bashing. That's just Hermione being bitter. So… whaja think?!**


	2. Pristine Purebloods & Muddled Mudbloods

**Author's Note: **Another chapter lacking an outline. Alas, I really don't care. So I think I'm going to write most chapters (since FF doesn't really require them to be long - I don't want to bore you) on the weekends and update about every Wednesday - I'll be full of writing anyways, since that's the day my reading log has to be written. I'll also be full of creative energy, since that's also the day I have drama practice. That way you guys get the best possible chapters and a sure updating day. What do you think?

And since I forgot last time, **I do not own Harry Potter (or Barbie).**

**The Malfoy Affect Chapter Two: Pristine Purebloods and Muddled Mudbloods**

**Hermione**

_I had not _meant to spend so much time in the library. It was half past midnight when I checked my watch. I looked over at Malfoy, who was sprawled over the chair comfortably, wide awake and still avidly reading his Defense Against the Dark Arts book. We had paused in our reading to go to lunch, walking as far away from each other as possible, and then Malfoy had sat back down in my favorite chair and refused to leave. So I decided to bug him in return. He must have felt my gaze on him because he looked up at me abruptly. "Hi," I said intelligently.

"Salutations," he drawled dryly, then checked his own watch and made a face. "Granger, you really should be getting off to bed. You need your beauty sleep. Badly." He smirked infuriatingly at his own insult, to which I rolled my eyes.

"On the contrary, my dear Malfoy, it is you who needs the beauty sleep." Real good comeback, I know.

"Granger, I was born with a pristine beauty. You're just jealous."

"Mm hmm. You keep telling yourself that."

"I will, and you'll eventually believe it." He yawned a little. "I'm going to fall asleep. See you, mudblood."

I have to admit. I panicked. It was 12:30 am in the castle that had given me nightmares for years now and I was expected to roam the hallways alone? No. Absolutely not. I may have faced unimaginable terrors, but Harry or Ron were always beside me (or not very far away, at least), waiting to rescue me. And what if I got caught? I couldn't get caught! I was the best student! A notorious rule-follower! What would Professor McGonagall think?

So that would be why I dived out of my chair and latched onto the man I had despised for seven years. I clung to his arm desperately why he looked at me inquiringly, with a raised eyebrow. I suddenly realized I was touching him. Ew.

I yanked my hand away and he shrugged, then cocked his head. "Can I help you, mudders?"

I can only infer that that was a slightly more polite nickname than mudblood. Mudders, indeed. "Yes, Malfoy," I said, straightening my shirt. "Could you… Um, walk me to my common room?"

He looked at me in exasperation. "Seriously, Granger? You're afraid?"

"Yes! I am!"

"You faced Bellatrix Lestrange on multiple occasions, one of which she tortured you senseless, and you're afraid?"

My eyes widened at the reminder. I flinched at his words and turned away quickly. "Never mind," I said quietly. I could spend the night in the library - there was no way I was going out there into the dark _now_, not after he'd just made me think of that… I shivered and felt a ginger touch on my shoulder.

"Hey, Granger. I'm sorry, okay?" I turned around and looked into apologetic grey orbs, and found myself noting what an interesting hue they were. Malfoy's next words shook me out of my appreciation and threw me into another. "I'll walk you. C'mon."

And so I found myself clutching Malfoy's arm rather tightly with a terrified expression and he with an amused one. "You're really having fun with this, aren't you?" I asked him as we turned a corner.

"Most definitely," he grinned back, then shook his head. "I still can't believe I agreed to this. When did I develop a sense of empathy?"

I shrugged. "You don't seem particularly emphatic."

"Two years ago I would've hexed you then run down the hallway laughing."

"Pleasant."

"Indeed."

We walked in silence for a bit before I got up the courage to let go of his arm and maintain a respectable distance. Note to self: wash hands before bed.

"So glad you stopped clinging to me," Malfoy smirked. "That was beginning to get uncomfortable."

"You were the one who agreed to walk me."

"That was only because you looked like you were going to cry. Then I would feel even more uncomfortable and awkward than I do now."

"There it is again. You really should get rid of that empathy, it's driving me nuts."

"I'm sure you'll get over it."

Silence.

"This is really weird," I sighed. "Try not to be my only lifeline next time, okay?"

"Sure, Granger. If I ever see your bushy-haired head in the library again, I will personally throw some Gryffindors in there to cater to your needs."

I sniffed indignantly, but said nothing for a while. The quiet was scarier than Malfoy's insults, though, so I decided to make small talk. "So why'd you come back?"

"I had nothing better to do."

"Seriously?"

"_Yes_, Granger, seriously. What do you expect me to do all day? Play hide-and-seek with the house elves and wallow in my own self-pity? Is that it?" he said scathingly. "I know you and your boyfriends like to pass the time that way, but _I_ do not."

His words didn't sting. I was far too used to that by now. "Harry isn't my boyfriend," I said simply, as he poked his head around a corner to make sure the prefects weren't around. "And Ron's pretty close to being thrown out of my life."

"I don't get it," Malfoy growled, looking back at me where I'd fallen slightly behind. "You're supposed to insult me relentlessly and on occasion hex me, not tell me about your and Weaselbee's relationship."

"I have nothing better to do," I mimicked smartly, earning a glare.

"What are you, Granger? Five?"

"You're one to talk, O Mature One."

"How so?" He stopped walking and stood a little taller than me, folding his arms.

"This coming from the guy who can't get past ancestry to see a person's personality."

He scoffed. "I can see your personality. You're a beaver-toothed, know-it-all, stubborn-a - "

"Shush," I said quickly, cutting him off.

"Don't you shush me, stupid mud - "

"_Shush!_" I hissed, pushing him against the wall just as a prefect rounded the corner ahead of us. She walked down the hallway importantly and I felt a quick stab of jealousy. McGonagall had decided that seventh years weren't eligible to be prefects or Heads because they'd had enough privilege last year, what with the fighting efforts. I'm pretty sure she was just trying to please the parents of the younger students, who far outnumbered those of the returned seventh years. This incompetent girl didn't even realize two people against a wall ten feet away! Even if we were in the shadows - she should at least look around. I huffed quietly and Malfoy flicked my arm, glaring at me.

She passed and we waited a few minutes for her to get out of ear-shot before beginning our walk again.

"Seriously, Granger, don't ever do that again. I would rather get caught than have to stand you throwing yourself at me."

"You didn't seem to particularly mind," I said, rolling my eyes.

"I was stunned from the proximity of your mudblood-ed-ness," he sniffed.

"You're lucky I don't hex you," I retorted.

"I thought I was your lifeline?"

"Sorry, but you've been replaced. The common room is around the next corner and Harry and Ron will most likely be waiting to yell at me."

"Oh, come on. Even I don't yell at you."

"It's a friendly-concern, where-the-heck-have-you-been,-Hermione? Sort of yell," is shrugged.

Malfoy said nothing in reply and I can only guess he still didn't approve.

"Why do you even care?" I asked him, quirking an eyebrow.

"I don't. I was just curious as to why the two who are supposed to be your best friends yell at you."

"I just explained - "

"Yeah, Granger, got it the first time."

At that moment we reached the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

"I bid you adieu," Malfoy said grandly, bowing - then ruined it by adding, "mudblood."

"Pureblood."

"Beaver-tooth."

"Sissy-haired."

"_What?_"

I laughed and said the password quickly, scrambling through the hole behind the portrait before Malfoy had a chance to ask where that insult came from (it came from Barbie, incidentally - her hair was exactly the same shade as Malfoy's).

"Hermione! Where the heck have you been?!" yelled Ron, with a stoic and stern Harry beside him.

"We were worried sick!" Harry added, holding up his watch. "Do you have any idea what time it is?!"

"Yes, Harry, I do," I said, rolling my eyes. "And you guys say I'm motherly."

"You are. But we get to be mothers rarely, so we have to make a show of it," grinned Harry, draping an arm around me. After the initial outburst, Ron showed no signs of concern and stayed oddly silent. I frowned.

"I'm going to bed," I said, shrugging Harry's arm off. I felt bad for the hurt that flashed across his face momentarily. But he cheerfully waved me off and beckoned ran up the steps to the boys' dorms with a quick, "'Night, 'Mione!"

"Goodnight, Hermione," Ron said neutrally. I simply nodded in return, not trusting my voice. I tiptoed into the dorm and found my bed, placing a silencing charm on the canopy that framed it so that no one would hear me cry.

**Okay, so a few things to clear up:**

**Harry and Hermione are not having some sort of secret affair. His casually draping an arm around Hermione is a friendly and protective sort of gesture. Remember the awkward dancing? Yeah, this is part two.**

**Wilsy the reviewer had some excellent points. He/she (…sorry, I couldn't tell by the way you wrote XD) said that Hermione opening up to Draco so easily was a little weird (with slightly more sophisticated words). I find that I whole-heartedly agree. However, the story's main source of Dramione is from Hermione's recklessness. Ron has done something to make her mad (no, he was not sucking face with floozies, that's Hermione's bitterness, again) and now she wants to get back in the form of Draco Malfoy. We all know Draco's got nothing to lose, but goody-goody Granger needs a little push.**

**Wilsy also pointed out that Hermione and Draco aren't as hostile to each other as they probably should be (that is what you were saying, wasn't it? XD). I have come up with an excellent excuse: they just got out of a war and don't want to start another.**

**Yes, Hermione was girlish and wimpy in this chapter. However, I think it's okay because her vulnerability will be an excellent source of Dramione. We must remember that Draco is still Draco XD**

**I know some of you may hate the nickname "'Mione"… but really, what are you going to do? I just picture adorable little Harry calling her that. Sorry.**

**So! Please tell me your thoughts on Hermione's over all in-character-ness. I know that the banter wasn't that good, forgive me (I'm still getting into the groove of things), but other than all that chizz. Yes, I just said chizz. You will get over it. What about Draco? The next chapter will be in his POV, so did he call her mudblood enough? Should he ease up or become a sadistic bastard? **


	3. The Oddities of Granger

**Author's Note: **'Tis Thursday. I'm such a cheater - it's totally not the weekend. Something I forgot to mention in the last chapter:

Actually, Hermione's feeble insult "sissy-haired" came from a quote from the movie Mean Girls. ("I have this theory that if you cut off all of her hair she'd look like a British man.") If you look at Miley Cyrus's new haircut, she looks just like a certain Tom Felton. Barbie came up because I'd expect Hermione to know more about Barbie than Miley Cyrus XD

Early update :D Thought I'd knock it out and get s'more reviews. Building a fan base is impossible if no one sees it XD

Anywho. Read on, lovelies!

**I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, Ron would be stuck with Lavender and Dramione would be canon. Screw Asteria Greengrass.**

**Chapter Three: The Oddities of Granger**

**Draco**

_I hate it. _I hate Potions class. It's unbearable. I cannot stand how all the Gryffindors snigger because I'm the only Slytherin (besides Slughorn, but he doesn't count) in the room. I cannot stand how no one will get within ten feet of me if they don't have to. Seriously, people. I don't bite. Well, actually, I have had a history of biting and more than once I'd wondered if I had metaphorical rabies - but now I don't bite.

On several occasions, the mudblood gave me a funny look, like she was thinking about something. Then Weaselbee would draw her attention again and she'd get back to work. I don't see how she's attracted to that buffoon - I suppose it's the whole opposite thing. I've never believed in that. If I ever marry a lady, she's going to be an intelligent pureblood.

Studiously ignoring the you-killed-my-father-albeit-indirectly glares, I worked on my potion alone. When no one dared raise their hand to be partnered with Draco Malfoy, I had smiled graciously and said I'd rather work alone, anyhow. Slughorn had chuckled awkwardly and someone had made a rude comment, but other than that, the class was going smoothly.

"Deatheater," someone growled, jostling my shoulder as they passed so that I dropped what was supposed to be a pinch (I had grabbed a handful and was holding it over the potion, preparing to pinch it) of dragon scale shavings into my potion. Ah, I spoke too soon. The emerald green substance quickly turned a bubble-gum pink, then decided to have a minor explosion - but only on me. That's what I get for obeying orders because my mother's life was threatened, I suppose. Never mind the fact I've never killed anyone. Never mind the fact I'm horribly depressed and wish nothing but to kill myself but too cowardly to do it - never mind all that. I simply sighed and cleaned myself up, then started over, working quickly because we only had fifteen minutes left.

By the end of the class, I was done. I grabbed a vial and siphoned a sample into it, then walked out of the classroom. The scene that met me made my jaw drop (thankfully, no one saw and my dignity survived).

Granger was shrieking at a fellow Gryffindor, whose voice I recognized as the one who'd called me a Deatheater. The shriek-ee retorted quickly and Weaselbee came up behind him and threw a punch. A loud _crack _rang through the air just as Slughorn came out of the classroom.

"Detention, Ronald," he said quietly. "You, too, Towler." Slughorn walked away briskly. I strolled quickly in the opposite direction, towards the library.

I had been in there no more than twenty minutes when hushed voices filled the air. I located the source being Mudders and Weaselbee having a lovers' quarrel in the next aisle over. Sadly, I had to go past that aisle to get out of the library, so I turned on my heel and walked deeper, towards the Restricted section.

Twenty lovely, silence-filled minutes later, my peace was shattered rudely by Granger, who stood over me with folded arms. "You're in my favorite chair again," she said.

I looked around. She was right. "So I am."

"Can I have my chair back?"

"I don't see your name on it, mudblood. Go find yourself another spot; they're all the same."

"If they're all the same, then why don't _you_ get up?"

"Because I'm trying to prove a point," I sighed in exasperation. "Really, Granger. Brightest witch of your age, my foot."

"Your foot deserves a stomp right now."

"You wouldn't da- ow!" She stepped on my shoe. My brand-new, seal leather shoe. Darn her. Darn that mudblood! But I still wasn't getting up.

When she realized this, Granger made a face and sat down in the chair next to me. Ugh, was this becoming a regular thing? Can't a man have his chair (which, incidentally, is my favorite, too) in the library?

"So," Granger said quietly, twirling a brown lock of hair.

"I have no intention of starting a conversation with you. I've had quite enough of that, thank you."

"Charming, you are," she hissed, then sighed and grabbed my book.

"What was that for?"

"You stole my chair. I stole your book. Hammurabi's Code. I find it efficient."

I had no idea who this Hammurabi was but I sure as heck didn't like him if he was making Mudders think she could just take my book. "Give me my book back."

"Give me my chair back."

"No."

"Okay."

I sat boredly for a while, watching the expressions flit across Granger's face amusedly. "Is there any particular reason you're staring at me?" she asked, not looking up.

Oh, crap. I had not intended on getting caught. Ah, well. "Just because you're so perfectly hideous. I can't stop staring. Really, Granger, don't Muggles have some kind of face-altering surgery?"

She glared at me, then said quietly, "Shut up, Malfoy."

Finally! She'd actually responded! "I don't think I will," I said casually, earning another stomp on my foot. I gave Granger a dirty look and got up to find another book. Honestly, she could be downright violent when she wanted to be.

When I came back to the chairs, Granger occupied mine. She looked up smugly. I resisted the urge to whack her with the thick book in my hand. "Really? You're seriously that childish?"

"We've been through this, Malfoy."

"So we have. But that gives you no excuse to take my chair."

"I don't see your name on it. All the spots are the same; go find your own," she muttered in a high-pitched voice.

"You should really think of your own comebacks, mudblood," I yawned. "This joke is getting old."

She frowned and turned the page. I sat down in the other chair and began to read. Somehow, she found the need to speak again.

"I broke up with Ron," she said quietly.

"Okay?" I said, raising an eyebrow inquiringly as I looked up at her.

"Luna isn't back this year, and Ginny's sure to be mad, and Harry will want to comfort Ron."

"So?" I asked, closing my book to look up at her.

She met my eyes pleadingly. "So I don't really know anyone else, and I don't want to sit alone at lunch. I just want some company, even if said company is snarky and mean."

"What are you getting at, mudblood?"

She sighed and closed her eyes. "Can I sit with you at lunch?"

"No," I said immediately and automatically. It was just a reflex, a defense mechanism. If Granger asked, the answer was no. Simple as that.

Unfortunately, this was the wrong time to say no. Granger bit her lip and her big doe eyes watered. I sighed. I had to agree. She was going to cry if I said no again, and I didn't want a crying mudblood on my hands. I owed her after all the Dark Lord put her through, anyways (even if she did throw that punch in third year). "Fine, but only because you look like a lost puppy. I don't know why you're so worked up, anyways. I wouldn't really expect dumb gingers to be your type."

She threw her book (well, actually, I guess it was my book) at my head and missed completely. I chuckled lightly. "Your aim sucks, Granger. Seriously, though, why don't you just ask a Gryffindor? There are plenty nicer than me to sit with."

She mumbled something I couldn't quite hear in return.

"What was that, mudblood? Don't be a mumbler, now."

"I said, I don't want to sit at that table, because then I would have to look at Ron and Harry and Ginny all huddled around being friends."

"Oh," I said quietly. "Well, I sure know how that feels."

We sat in silence for a little while. This time, Granger found it fine to keep her mouth shut - that is, until it was time for lunch. Remind me again why I agreed to this?

**Well, that's a sucky cliffhanger. As you lovelies can see, Draco is not completely heartless, so yay for that. The next chapter is in Hermione's POV, and we'll get to finally see what's been going on with her and Ron. She won't be crying to Malfoy just yet, don't worry, hehe. In fact, I think most of the chapter will be in thought-land. She and Draco won't be talking much XD I'm off to write the next chapter. I'm addicted to my own FanFiction - I'm so shallow XD**

**Don't forget to review - thanks :D**


	4. Black Misery

**Author's Note: **Just to let you know, I like to dive right into things. Even if it's a prologue, everything is abrupt and probably done too early - but that's just the way I write. Sorry if you don't particularly like it. For those of you who have this opinion, this chapter should be nice and slow and boring for you XD I've also noticed I tend to start out chapters very negatively. Do you guys mind? Should I stop? That's one thing I don't mind changing, if you lovelies so wish it.

**I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, there would be another character called Katie (she totally stole my name) who is the epicest witch ever and would steal Draco right out from under Asteria's greedy little nose. Cough.**

**Chapter Four: Black Misery**

**Hermione**

_Lunch was not_ the fun-est lunch ever. But really, what did I expect? Draco had led me somewhat reluctantly to the Great Hall, making awkward small talk until we just lapsed into our normal routine of relentless insults. I saw Harry give me a weird look. Ron didn't even glance at me. Ginny made a rude gesture.

After this very unfortunate series of events, we'd sat down and Malfoy had tossed the book I'd thrown at him to me. I picked it up and began to read voraciously. He'd called me a mudbloody nerd. I called him an narcissistic idiot. He'd shrugged, muttering something about both of us being right, before taking out his own book.

Sometime mid-lunch, he said, "So… you don't need any… comfort, or anything, right? I mean, you could write to Looney - er, Luna, yeah?"

I rolled my eyes. Draco Malfoy comfort me? No. "Please get over yourself. The role you play is company, Malfoy. Nothing more. I just don't want to be alone. Is that so bad?"

"Yes."

I sighed and half-heartedly flicked some food at him, and it missed completely. He harped on me about aiming until I flicked some pumpkin pie and finally hit him. On the nose. I laughed incredibly hard just as it got very quiet. Malfoy hurriedly wiped his face and sent a poisonous glare into the air and everyone went back to chatting and eating.

We were silent for a while, and I had time to think. I was still a little numb inside. The shock would hit me later. Right then I was calm. Just fine. Just another girl who'd broken up with the guy who was supposed to be the love of her life. The guy who'd stopped caring - or just cared every now and then. I had missed Ron even when I was still dating him. The death of Fred had hit us all hard - but Ron, Molly, and George especially. George was doing better, but Ron and Molly were still numb. Completely numb. It was like they were in a trance and only came out of it when an emotion completely overtook them.

Like when I'd gotten back to the common room late at night, the night Malfoy had walked me. Ron was so worried he actually cared a little bit - and then it was gone. I had been so hopeful, when he yelled at me, and then that hope was ripped away. I had cried myself to sleep.

And today, when Kenneth Towler had called me that name for defending Malfoy - Ron had been so angry he'd punched the guy. And then it was gone again. I couldn't take it anymore - I didn't want to live my life coaxing Ron into caring about his girlfriend. So I broke up with him. And now I missed even more than I had.

I love Ron, truly I do. I know he needs to be comforted, but I do, too. I can't piece Ron back together like he needs someone to when I'm on the verge of falling apart myself. It just isn't possible. I can't keep the thoughts out of my head, either - paranoid thoughts that he's getting his comfort in the form of kisses from somebody else, and that's why he hates me so much. He just feels bad because he's stuck with me and doesn't want to hurt my feelings. I know it isn't true, that I'm being ridiculous - but I can't help thinking it all the same.

Malfoy pulled me out of my thoughts by poking my arm. "I have to get to class, Granger. You'll be okay, right?"

"Y-yeah," I said quietly, starting to feel the shock. "I'll be okay."

I followed Malfoy out of the Great Hall, with him heading off to Defense Against the Dark Arts and I to Divination. I didn't realize he'd actually cared minutely about my well-being until a few days later. By then I was too broken to puzzle over it, and had just let myself fall into the black misery taking over my heart.

**So there we have it! Hopefully everything's all cleared up about Ron and Hermione's relationship. I know you guys must be thinking, "Well, now she's all shattered and chizzes so how in the world is the equally shattered Malfoy going to help?" And that's just it, isn't it? I'll leave you to dwell on that.**

**Don't forget to review, lovelies. Make my day. Go on, now.**


	5. Reptilian

**Author's Note: **Hey! sprinklesomesalt brought up an excellent point: our dear Hermione's pride. I hadn't even thought of that. You lovelies are so keen ;.; Hopefully her ego will show in this chapter :D Draco takes the stage again :D

…Ha, the lady who plays Professor McGonagall is on in the next room :P

Ack! Sorry this is late :I

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

**This chapter was inspired by the song So You Don't Have to Love Me Anymore (P) (C) 2012 ACR Records, LLC under exclusive license to EMI Records Nashville. All rights reserved. Unauthorized reproduction is a violation of applicable laws. Manufactured by Capitol Records Nashville, 3322 West End Avenue, 11th Floor, Nashville, TN 37203**

**Chapter Five: Reptilian**

**Draco**

_Hermione Jean Granger _was a very strange witch. It was very obvious to me that she was hurting badly, but she put on a brave face and did brilliantly in the I'm-okay-leave-me-alone category. She could've been an actress.

Not that I cared that she was in pain. Really, I'd only noticed because I'd picked up on how I'd gotten to her over the years - a sadistic guy like me needs to know when he's hit a nerve, after all. I couldn't care less about how much her heart was breaking.

That was why I took her chair in the library every day, just so she would get mad (not so that she would get distracted, though).

That was why I insulted her loudly from across the room, just so that Potter would take a swing at me (I was absolutely not trying to provoke _Weasley_).

That was why I gave her a clipped "no" so that I didn't have to sit with her at lunch every time she asked after the last time (only once, actually, a particularly bad day in which Potter had been angry with her for some reason or another) - it was absolutely _not _because I was trying to turn her around so that she wouldn't be dependent on me. It was _not_ because, in my opinion, she belongs with Weasley. It was _not _so she wouldn't become friends with a Deatheater and further estrange her real friends.

It was not because of all of that - not at all.

Not at all.

So it came as a bit of a shock when she shot me an annoyed and very knowing look one day right after Potions, after I'd said something particularly scathing about Granger and earned a punch to the jaw. I'd shaken it off. Granger didn't know what I was doing (nothing at all, of course). There was no way even she would work that out. She still believed me to be a heartless snake and so far I hadn't done anything to change her viewpoint, except maybe allowing her to bask in the glow of my company for one lunch period. I didn't want her to see me in a new light, anyways. This way was safer. I could allow myself to feel slightly less guilty about leaving her to rot and still keep up my image. And besides, she still had Scarhead.

And then this theory was very much shattered about a day later when the mudblood confronted me in the library. Deeming her to be on the mend, I had eased up on the attacks and left her alone - not completely, that would look strange, but enough so that I wasn't anymore of a pain than usual.

"Malfoy." A shadow fell on my face, ruining my reading light.

"Can I help you, Mudders?" I asked, using the new and official nickname for her.

"Yes, actually. I was going to ask a favor."

I looked up now, and smirked at the expression on her face. She was angry. I had finally made Granger mad - only because I enjoyed her pain, of course. "I don't have to grant you any favors, mudblood."

"Actually, you do, or I will personally make sure Pansy Parkinson comes into possession of a love potion this Christmas." My, she really could be a Slytherin. Look at her, being all conniving. It was actually quite attractive. I resisted the urge to bang my head on the wall at this thought. Granger was a no-good mudblood that I only pitied a little, and that was because of her heritage and had nothing to do with Weasley. I was a snake. A cold, heartless, evil, reptilian creature who was not capable of love - or even liking someone. She knew that. I knew that. So why did she keep acting like she knows what I'm doing, which was _nothing at all_.

"You're going to tell me something now," Mudders said quietly. I glared at her. What could she possibly black-mail me into saying?

"And what is this something that I'm going to tell you now?"

"What are you doing?" Oh, crap. Crap, crap, crap, crap.

"Reading," I said smartly, safely.

"You know what I mean. You've been even more annoying than usual and it kept me from thinking about Ron very effectively."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been my usual, brilliant self this past week."

Granger raised a hand to slap me, then let it fall. She leaned a little closer. "Listen to me. Whatever you're doing, stop it. I don't need your help and I don't want your help, ferret. Just leave me alone."

And with that, she walked away. I stared after her. I had noticed a couple of things wrong. One - Granger's eyes had been a very sad sort of brown, no longer the angry, fiery hazel. Two - she'd called me a ferret. She was wrong.

I was not a ferret. Ferrets were warm-blooded mammals who had feelings. I was not a ferret. I was some sort of twisted, evil reptile who did not posses the capacity to feel affection in any way, shape, or form. I was a snake.

I was reptilian.

**So. There we have it. Draco is in complete denial, and apparently now he is reptilian. *tsks* Poor him. Anywho, just sidle on over and review like the lovely you are and thankies for reading :D**


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